


Aziraphale's Apprentice

by imnotokaywiththerunning



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ducks, Gen, Historical Shenanigans, OC Angel - Freeform, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25521190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotokaywiththerunning/pseuds/imnotokaywiththerunning
Summary: After Crowley's stunt at the tailor's with Gabriel, Heaven is amazed by Aziraphale's efforts on Earth. Aziraphale gets assigned an intern to teach how he thwarts the evils of the demon Crowley.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 81
Collections: Holly Jolly July: a Good Omens Gift Exchange





	Aziraphale's Apprentice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UserIsMe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UserIsMe/gifts).



> This is a gift for UserIsMe for the Holly Jolly July exchange on the Good Omens Events discord.  
> I hope this is at least a little of what you had in mind, UserIsMe.

“Crowley! Really, my dear, are you quite finished?”

Aziraphale pursed his lips at Crowley“Crowley! Really, my dear, are you quite finished?”

Aziraphale pursed his lips at Crowley, glaring at him over his wine glass. The demon was sprawled over the new sofa in the bookshop’s backroom cackling so hard that he was in danger of falling to the floor. They had been toasting the opening of Aziraphale’s bookshop, and the angel’s continued stay on Earth, when the missive from Heaven had appeared. Crowley clutched the letter in his hand where he had snatched it from Aziraphale. He’d just finished a dramatic reading of the letter, tears of laughter streaming down his face. Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“Whenever you’re done, my dear.” 

Crowley set up and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry, angel, but this is just too much. They’re sending you an intern! An intern!” He dissolved into laughter again. 

“Well, I’ve got you to thank for this,” Aziraphale deadpanned, draining the last of his wine and reaching to fill his glass again. He refilled Crowley’s as well, even though the majority of the wine in Crowley’s glass had found its way to the floor during his laughing fit. “Your little charade at the tailor’s was a bit too convincing. Especially if they think I have something to _teach_ another angel.”

Crowley began cackling again in earnest. Exasperated, Azirahale snatched his letter back to reread the terms of his new assignment. Heaven was sending him an intern. An intern he was going to have to teach his methods of “thwarting the demon Crowley.” Aziraphale didn’t even know what that meant. As far as he could remember, he and Crowley had been more friendly acquaintances than enemies. He couldn’t very well teach an intern to befriend a demon instead of actually doing his job. He blinked rapidly. Mentioning the Arrangement was right out. He shuddered at the consequences of Heaven ever finding out about that. 

Crowley had quieted. He stared at Aziraphale from his perch on the sofa, his uncovered eyes boring into Aziraphale’s own. His face was filled with concern Aziraphale did not want to see. This was supposed to be a celebration of Aziraphale opening his bookshop, and Heaven had gone and dumped a bucket of cold water over them. 

Aziraphale jumped up, tugging his waistcoat back into place as he walked to his little wine cellar. “I think I’ve got a rather nice bottle of port in the back if you’d like. Something a little different to round out the evening.”

Crowley was where he’d left him when the angel returned with the aforementioned bottle of port, his serious mien now more firmly in place. Aziraphale busied himself with pouring them both a generous glass. He fussed with placing Crowley’s glass in just the right spot on the end table before settling himself back into his armchair. It was a very nice armchair. He’d acquired it during his brief stint in King Louis’s court. His stay had been unproductive save for this chair. It had become Aziraphale’s favorite quite quickly. 

“Angel,” Crowley said, pushing his breath out in a long sigh. He picked up the port and took a sip. He leveled Aziraphale with a gentle stare. “There’s no need to worry, Aziraphale. We’ll work something out.”

“I’m not worried,” Aziraphale snapped. “What’s there to be worried about? It’s not like I haven’t been doing my job in thwarting evil. I certainly haven’t been involved in an Arrangement that sometimes requires me to perform temptations! I haven’t the foggiest--!”

“Do you remember Shakespeare?”

Aziraphale blinked at the sudden non sequitur. “Shakespeare?”

“Yeah, wordy bloke, stole a few lines from me. Ringing any bells?”

Aziraphale snorted. “Of course, I remember Shakespeare! We were friends! I’ve got his entire collected works just there!” He pointed to an already overstuffed bookcase with his glass, sloshing port over the floor.

“Well, there you go, then,’ Crowley smirked, leaning back into the sofa and crossing his leg over his knee. He sipped his drink, smiling smugly over the rim of the glass. 

Aziraphale blinked again. “What, my dear boy, in the absolute _fuck_ are you on about?”

Crowley leaned forward, grin firmly in place. “We’re gonna pull a Shakespeare.”

Aziraphale shook his head as the weight of Crowley’s words hit him. “Crowley, that is ridiculous. We couldn’t possibly--”

“Course, we can, angel,” Crowley said simply, spreading his arms wide. “All we have to do is put on a little play for your Heavenly minion--”

“Intern,” Aziraphale interjected absently. 

“Your Heavenly minion,” Crowley continued as if Aziraphale hadn’t spoken. “It’ll be like with Gabriel, only better. We’ll come up with something to put good ol’ Willy Shakes to shame.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips, stilling in his chair. What Crowley was suggesting was patently ridiculous, not to mention highly dangerous. If they were found out...It didn’t bear thinking. But, Crowley _had_ already laid the foundation for such a thing with his ruse for Gabriel. All they would be doing was adding a little flare, a bit of drama. A cherry on top of the metaphorical cake, as it were. 

Aziraphale met Crowley’s eye decisively. “Alright. But I highly doubt anything we could come up with would rival the Bard.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.” Crowley rubbed his hands together and grinned maniacally. “You won’t regret this, angel.”

* * *

Anauel stood still in the street, staring up at the sign reading _A.Z. Fell and Company: Antique Booksellers_. She wondered who the “and Company” was. As far as she knew, the Principality Aziraphale was the only occupant of this dwelling. She tilted her head as she studied the words again. Was she the “and Company” now? 

A horse and carriage drove perilously close by her but miraculously missed her at the last minute. The driver yelled at her angrily as he passed. Anauel frowned at him. She had not had the pleasure of meeting any humans on Earth before, and she wasn’ sure she wanted to repeat the process if the carriage driver was anything to go by. 

A bell tinkled followed by a flustered Principality hurrying down the booksellers’ steps to pull her fully onto the sidewalk. His hands fluttered around her as he checked Anauel over for injuries, clucking to himself. 

“My dear girl, are you quite all right?” 

His eyes were wide and full of concern. Anauel did not understand why. She was an angel. There was nothing a mortal human could do to her that would hurt her. 

“Are you the Principality Aziraphale?” she asked instead.

“Yes,” he said simply, taking a step back from her. “And you would be?”

“Angel Anauel.”

“Right. Yes. Of course! Gabriel mentioned they were sending someone.” The Principality smiled widely, clasping his hands in front of his waist. He began to spin the ring on his right pinky finger quite forcefully. Anauel thought it looked painful.

“You’re meant to teach me.”

“Yes. I did read the memo!” he chuckled. He gestured back to the door he’d come out of. “Why don’t we continue this conversation in my shop?”

Anauel followed him up the stairs and then walked through the door he held for her. The bell tinkled over her head as she entered. The first thing she noticed was how cluttered the bookshop was. She didn’t think she had ever seen so many _things_ in such a small place in her whole existence. There were bookshelves stuffed to the brim with books, of course, but there was so much more. Statues depicting humans’ ideas of angels littered every available space. Paintings hung on what little wall space hadn’t been taken by shelves. Thick carpets were laid out on the floors. Anauel thought to take off her shoes to feel the plush carpet beneath her bare feet. 

But the main attraction, the one thing that drew Anauel to it like a moth to a flame, was the skylight. She stood beneath it in the middle of the room, looking up at the blue sky obscured by clouds. The air outside had been blanketed in grey smog, but through the skylight in Principality Aziraphale’s bookshop the air was clean and bright. It was an intoxicating contrast to the darkness of the rest of the bookshop.

“Yes, well. Welcome to my humble abode!” Principality Aziraphale chuckled, wringing his hands in front of his ample waist. Anauel was reminded of Archangel Gabriel’s warning to not let her time on Earth make her soft like Principality Aziraphale. She couldn’t help but think that his softness suited him. Perhaps he had chosen this form to make humans feel more comfortable around him. His aura exuded calm and safety even to Anauel. 

“It is beautiful,” she said, looking back up through the skylight.

“Oh! Thank you! I just moved in so it’s still rather cluttered, I’m afraid.”

She heard him start to walk away and turned in time to see him disappear around the corner of a bookshelf. She made to follow him around the corner but he seemed to have vanished into thin air. She listened for his footsteps getting farther away but she couldn’t pin point the direction they were headed. 

“I was just about to make myself a cup of cocoa.” His voice carried from further inside the bookshop. Anauel decided to try to follow it. “Would you like one, my dear?”

“Gross matter?” She could hear the Principality moving around in one place now. She turned another corner of a bookshelf, getting closer to where she thought Principality Aziraphale was and found herself in a dead end, staring up at a lifesize portrait of a red-haired man with a goatee wearing dark clothes that Anauel recognized from the 16th century. She tilted her head. The man looked familiar somehow…

“I can assure you it tastes rather lovely,” Principality Aziraphale chuckled.

Anauel frowned. What did it’s taste have to do with anything? His footsteps grew closer and Anauel turned in time to see him round the bookshelf to join her. He carried two cups, one of which he handed to her. It had white wings attached that made it awkward to hold. The Principality held his effortlessly, sipping the steaming liquid with a pleased hum. He nodded expectantly at her, smiling benignly. She raised the cup to her mouth and poked herself in the eye with the wings.

“Oh dear! I’m so sorry. Here let me.” He snapped his fingers and the wings on the cup turned into a normal round handle that was much easier to grip. His lips quirked in a grin as she lifted the cup of cocoa to her lips once again. “I should have remembered it takes some time to get used to these mugs.”

Anauel wasn’t listening to him. She looked down at the dark liquid in wonder. Principality Aziraphale had been right. Cocoa was rather lovely. She gulped down the rest of the drink until her cup was empty. When she looked up, Principality Aziraphale was grinning at her over his own drink. 

“There’s more just this way, if you’d like.”

This time Anauel followed the Principality closely, nearly walking on his heels to keep him in sight. He led her through the labyrinthine bookshop easily until they came to an area sectioned off from the rest of the shop. Principality Aziraphale gestured for her to sit on a cushioned sofa and then took a seat at a cluttered desk for himself. Anauel sat on the edge of the cushion watching Principality Aziraphale as he wiggled back into his chair with a pleased sigh. 

“This is actually good timing. Your coming here, I mean.” He traded his cup for a newspaper that had been folded open on the desk. He handed it to her. “I’ve just gotten word that the demon Crowley is up to some mischief. I could use some help as it happens.”

Anauel sat up straighter at Principality Aziraphale’s words. She hadn’t thought that they would be trying to thwart evil so early in her visit. But she was more than prepared. “What would you have me do, Principality Aziraphale?”

He waved her off. “Please, just call me Aziraphale. All this principality business is too formal. And since we will be working together, I don’t see a need for it.”

Anauel considered his request. It was a mark of respect to say an angel’s rank before their name. But she was here to learn from Principality Aziraphale. Or rather, Aziraphale. “What would you have me do, Aziraphale?”

He beamed at her, taking up his cup again. “Well, we’re going to stop him. Thwart some evil, as it were.”

He pointed again to the newspaper and Anauel looked more closely at it. It was opened to the classifieds. A large red circle marked one of them. She read it aloud.

“Wiley demon in search of willing human minions for Satanic ritual. If interested, meet by the duck pond at St. James Park at midnight on the full moon.”

“Is that really what that says?” Azirphale snatched the newspaper from her hands to read it for himself. He rolled his eyes and muttered. “Oh, good Lord. That’s laying it on a bit thick.”

“What?”

Aziraphale smiled again, turning his focus back to her. “Oh nothing! It’s just that Crowley’s usually a bit more circumspect. I don’t know what’s gotten into the dear bo--” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Dastardly demon, I should say.”

Anauel watched Aziraphale fidget in his chair. He seemed to always be in motion, his thoughts on display in the way he moved. Anauel had not met another angel like him. He almost seemed human. He had been on Earth since Eden was first created, she recalled. Perhaps this was a product of being away from Heaven for so long, only surrounded by humans, fighting on the front lines of the war of Good and Evil on his own. A sharp pang echoed through her chest. 

“Does it ever get lonely?”

Aziraphale froze, completely still for the first time since they’d met. His eyes were round in his pale face, jaw slack. His voice was faint. “What?”

“You’re the only angel still stationed on Earth full time. Don’t you ever miss Heaven?”

Aziraphale’s gaze traveled the length of the bookshop before settling once more on Anauel. He gave her a small smile that failed to reach his eyes. “I suppose I’ve never thought of it. I wouldn’t consider myself so. It is hard to be lonely on a world full to the brim with people.”

“Yes, but--”

“Enough about me,” Aziraphale interrupted with a shake of his head. “You’re here to learn about thwarting evil. The full moon is tonight. We should focus on what we’re to do about whatever ritual Crowley plans to enact.”

Anauel did not like the change in subject, but she couldn’t deny that they should be doing something about the demon. She frowned, intent on bringing it up again before she returned to Heaven, but willing to let it go for now. “What do you normally do to stop the demon?”

Aziraphale grinned so big Anauel thought his face might split in two. “I read,” he said simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He popped out of his chair, feet carrying him swiftly back into the maze of bookshelves.“I know just the books we need. Come along, my dear!”

* * *

It was almost midnight. Anauel and Aziraphale had been hiding out behind the bushes near the duck pond in St. James Park for a few hours now. Every minute had seen Anauel grow ever more tense. She sat so still and so straight, that her back was in danger of snapping. 

“My dear, I do wish you would relax. Have a biscuit. Your nerves are beginning to give me indigestion.”

Anauel looked at Aziraphale in awe. He was leaning back on his elbows on the tartan blanket he had insisted they bring, nibbling on a tin full of ginger biscuits. He held one out to her, but she shook her head. He popped the biscuit in his mouth with a shrug and reached for another. How could he be so relaxed when they were here to stop a demonic ritual?

They had spent all day researching what ritual the demon Crowley might be doing at midnight. Aziraphale had led her around the shop adding book after book to the growing pile he carried until it towered over his head. Seeing them set on the table back in the sitting area had given Anauel pause. She hadn’t thought they would have gotten through them all in time, but Aziraphale had known exactly what they were looking for in each book. He flipped through them with ease to the right place in each book, writing down what he found. 

While Aziraphale had been looking for specific rituals, Anauel had looked through the books on her own, reading everything she could. Her respect for the Principality grew with every page she read. If he were capable of stopping even half of the demons and evil mentioned in those tomes, he must be an incredibly powerful angel. 

Anauel jumped when said angel touched her arm, bringing her back to the present in the park. He placed his finger over his mouth and pointed out toward the duck pond. A tall man dressed in all black walked down the gravel lane, a canvas bag slung over his shoulder. He walked with an air of casual confidence, a pronounced swagger marring his gait. He stopped a few yards away from their hiding spot and dropped the bag to the ground with a heavy thud.

“Oi! Get over here! We’re doing evil!”

A series of angry quacks sounded over the pond followed by the sloshing of water as a sizable flock of ducks approached the shore where the man stood. He crouched down and started to feed the ducks some bread from his pockets. The ducks ate the bread and listened as he spoke softly to them. 

“Is that him?” Anauel whispered, not taking her eyes from the man. 

“Yes. That’s Crowley.”

Aziraphale spoke with such fondness in his voice that Anauel had to glance back at him. His face was curved in a warm smile as he watched Crowley. She looked back to try to see what would cause such a reaction. She saw nothing but a demon plotting with a quacking of ducks. 

“Why is the demon Crowley talking to the ducks?” Anauel asked. 

Aziraphale frowned, eyes narrowing at the demon. “You know, that’s an excellent question, Anauel. Let’s ask him.”

He stood up from the ground unceremoniously, wiping nonexistent dirt from his trousers and tugging his waistcoat back into place. Anauel’s eyes grew wide as Aziraphale stepped onto the gravel path and approached the demon with no trace of fear. She jumped up to follow him, keeping an eye on the park around them in case there were any other demons lying in wait for them.

“I was unaware that ducks were servants of Hell now.” Aziraphale stopped a few feet from where the demon knelt. He looked down his nose at the demon, his hands planted on his hips. He looked more the disappointed parent than an avenging angel, Anauel thought.

The demon scoffed. “I didn’t know you were interested in servants of Hell, angel. If I’d known that, I’d have invited you to dinner sooner.”

Aziraphale blushed, mouth gaping open in indignation. Anauel felt heat rush to her own face at this demon’s audacity to _tempt_ an _angel_. She stepped in front of Aziraphale, hands held aloft to strike if the demon so much as made a move in their direction.

“How dare you suggest an angel would ever care to dine with the likes of you!” 

Both Aziraphale and Crowley seemed taken aback by her vehemence. Crowley had fallen on his behind at her outburst and the ducks had scattered but for one who hissed at her before swimming off back into the darkness. 

“My dear Anauel, there’s no need for such language.” Aziraphale held his hand over his chest, looking affronted. Anauel did not understand.

“But he--”

“Geez, angel, what’s with the attack dog?”

“I am not a dog!”

Aziraphale grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back to stand partially behind him. He turned to her, concern mingling with doubt in his eyes. “My dear, he’s only saying these things to rile you. You mustn’t let him distract you. Besides,” he continued loudly and grandly in Crowley’s direction, “we’re here to stop whatever wiley temptations he had planned.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Crowley mumbled, gathering his legs beneath him to get off the ground. “She wasn’t supposed to be _mean,_ though.”

Anauel glared at Crowley still on the ground. He looked ridiculous with his long legs tangled together as he tried to stand. Seeing this demon as he was, Anauel couldn’t fathom how he was Hell’s most successful demon on Earth. If this was the best Hell had, she could almost allow herself to feel sorry for them. Crowley seemed nothing more than a gangly menace who talked to ducks. But then he shot her a cocky grin and what little sympathy she’d had vanished. 

A clearing of a throat echoed in the night air and all three jumped. A group of three young humans stood a few yards away. 

“Um, we’re here for the satanic ritual?” said the young woman in the middle. The other two, a young man and another young woman nodded. 

Aziraphale whirled on Crowley. “You _actually_ advertised this in the paper?!”

“Well, y-yeah,” he stammered, looking bewilderedly between the humans and the angels. “Was I not supposed to?”

Aziraphale groaned. “Crowley, it was only supposed to be in _one_ newspaper.”

“How was I to know someone would actually show up?! Do you have any idea how many times I’ve tried that before for it not to work?”

“What do you propose we do with them now, Crowley? Hmm? Was there a part of the plan that involved humans?”

Anauel kept her eye on the humans as Aziraphale and Crowley argued. They grew more terrified with each passing second. Anauel suspected the only thing keeping them here in the park was the firm grip the woman in the middle kept on her companions’ sleeves. Anauel did not know why Aziraphale was arguing over what to do with them or what plan he was referring to, but these humans were involved in a demonic plot. There was really only one thing to do with them. 

“Should we smite them?” she asked.

“No!”

The horror in Aziraphale’s voice was only rivaled by that in Crowley’s. They both moved to stand between Anauel and the humans. She frowned at Aziraphale in confusion. Weren't they supposed to be stopping evil? Why was he protecting the demon’s human companions?

“My dear,” Aziraphale said earnestly, “they are children. They probably just wanted to cause a bit of mischief, as children do. They’re ultimately harmless if a little misguided. They should be given a second chance to do what’s right, don’t you think?”

Anauel stared at their pale faces and the terror in their wide eyes. “What do we do with them, then?”

“Oh, um…” Aziraphale looked to Crowley with pleading eyes. 

The demon sighed and snapped his fingers. The humans stopped in their retreat, frozen in place by a miracle. They stared sightlessly across the park with glazed eyes. Crowley lazily swung his head to look at Aziraphale and gestured to the humans. “You’re up then, angel.”

Aziraphale straightened his waistcoat and jacket and marched over to the humans leaving Anauel with Crowley. He smiled reassuringly at the three of them. Anauel watched Aziraphale closely. This was not how she had imagined this encounter going. 

“Ah, hello!” he chuckled, looking each of the young humans in the eye. “Perhaps it’d be best if you children run along home, now. And, um, definitely rethink involving yourselves in any demonic goings-on in the future.” The humans nodded obediently. He beamed, clapping his hands together. “Oh, wonderful! Off you go, then! Toodle pip!”

Anauel crossed her arms as the humans left. Something was off here. Aziraphale seemed to be working with Crowley. But that couldn’t be right, could it? There was no way an angel and a demon would ever do that. Especially not Aziraphale, an angel who had just received a medal for his good work thwarting said demon. 

“ _Toodle pip_?” Crowley grimaced and leaned over to Anauel. “Has he been like this all day? How can you stand it?”

A sharp pain shot up Anauel’s leg. She screamed. The duck who had hissed at her earlier had come back, grabbing her ankle in its beak and beating her legs with its wings. She jumped around trying to dislodge it to no avail. The duck moved with her, never once lessening its grip. Aziraphale jumped to help her, fluttering around trying to grab the duck. He managed to get a hold of its tail and pulled the duck off of Anauel only to have it turn its rage on him. Feathers flew everywhere as he tried to hold the duck to calm it. 

Crowley had fallen back to the ground, cackling madly. Anauel glared at him. 

“Aren’t you going to help him?”

“Why? I’m a demon, remember?” he laughed, but moved to get up off the ground. He reached out and grabbed the duck around its middle, calming it instantly. He continued to laugh at the feathers stuck to Azirapahle’s clothes and in his hair. Aziraphale scowled at him and tried to brush the worst of it from his hair. Anauel moved to help him when she noticed a smirk cross his face. The look in his eyes stopped her in her tracks. Crowley must have noticed it too, because his laughter faded into the night. He gulped and took a step back. 

“Now, angel, you don’t want to do something you’ll regret later.”

Aziraphale’s smirk only grew. “Oh, I’m quite sure I won’t be regretting anything, my dear boy.”

“Aziraphale, we can talk about this,” Crowley pleaded, taking another step away from the Principality. 

Aziraphale shook his head and advanced on the demon slowly. The duck, sensing it was in danger, flew out of Crowley’s arms back into the pond with a terrified quack. Anauel backed away from the avenging angel, as well. Aziraphale looked more dangerous than Anauel had thought he ever could. It was awesome and terrifying at once. Aziraphale stopped in front of Crowley, placing a single hand on the demon’s chest, and pushed. 

Crowley flailed his arms as he fell back into the duck pond with a great splash and sunk beneath the water. Anauel gasped, but Crowley resurfaced, soaking wet and spluttering nonsense words about his plan being ruined. 

Aziraphale clapped his hands together, ridding himself of the dirt and feathers left on his clothes with a miracle. 

“I think our job here is done, don’t you?” he asked Anauel. He reached down and picked up the bag Crowley had brought with him to the park and smiled. He turned to Crowley still trying to regain his footing on the shore. “Let this be a lesson to you, foul fiend.”

Anauel’s ears perked up as Crowley muttered under his breath, “I’m having words with you later, angel.”

Aziraphale hadn’t seemed to hear Crowley because he gestured for Anauel to follow him and lead them out of the park. She kept close to his side, glancing over her shoulder to see Crowley stomping wetly in the opposite direction. She studied Aziraphale’s satisfied grin. Was this how things normally went between Aziraphale and Crowley? Aside from the push into the water, they had seemed almost...friendly.

“Is that...it?” she asked once they reached the edge of the park. “You push him in the water and he leaves?”

Aziraphale missed a step, but recovered quickly. He tugged on his waistcoat again. Anauel narrowed her eyes at his fidgeting, an idea beginning to form in her mind. “Well, he knows that that is the easier route. Retreat being the better part of valour, and all that. We’ve been at this so long, we know each other rather well. We both try not to escalate things very often, anymore.”

Anauel considered his words carefully. She had thought fighting with demons would involve, well, more fighting. But their encounter with Crowley had involved anything but. Thinking back over the events of the last half hour, Anauel couldn’t remember a single time that they had even looked at each other with any sort of animosity. She studied Aziraphale more closely, noticed the tense line of his shoulders that had returned once they’d left Crowley in the park. 

“I suppose it is good to know someone so well.”

“It is rather,” Azirapahel answered happily, some of the tension melting away. “But only for thwarting purposes, of course.”

“Of course.”

Anauel was beginning to understand. She shifted her awareness away from the physical plane and, just there shining from Aziraphale’s chest, she saw a brilliant flash of red. She looked back in the direction Crowley had gone and saw a similar flash. She sucked in a quiet breath. That made quite a bit of sense really. She thought that she should really be appalled that they were so fond of each other, but found that she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She and Aziraphale had stopped Crowley from performing a demonic ritual. So what if they were friends, as well? 

Anauel listened to Aziraphale chatter about this shop and that bakery as they walked back to Aziraphale’s own bookshop. She didn’t really understand half of what he was talking about, but he seemed happy to have a willing audience. Perhaps that was the benefit of Crowley’s friendship. She had asked Aziraphale earlier about being lonely as the only angel on Earth. If he had found companionship with a demon as tame as Crowley seemed to be, she didn’t think it a bad thing. 

The bell over the bookshop door rang out merrily at their return. Aziraphale placed Crowley’s bag on the front counter and began to rifle through it. He pulled out chalk, candles, and a bottle of wine. He stared at the wine for a long moment before looking up at Anauel. 

“Oh dear,” he said, face pale and tears shining in his eyes. “We left our picnic at the park. There was still a slice of angel cake left.”

Anauel shook her head, laughing quietly. “Perhaps it will be a good influence on Crowley’s ducks.”

Aziraphale laughed with her and patted her on the shoulder. “I think you’re learning quite nicely, my dear.”

* * *

“Anauel! How was your time on Earth?” Gabriel asked, his smile a brilliant white. Anauel paused, choosing her words carefully. Her experience on Earth had been...enlightening, but not in the way she expected Archangel Gabriel to approve. “The Principality Aziraphale is a very unique angel. Aziraphale is very powerful, but I am not sure that he knows this.”

Gabriel’s smile lessened in intensity. “You think he’s a powerful angel?”

“Yes,” Anauel nodded, remembering the dynamic Aziraphale seemed to have with Crowley. “I do not think any other angel could do what he does with the demon Crowley.”

Gabriel did frown now, though only for a second, before his high wattage smile returned full force. He clapped his hands together. “Very well, then! Thank you for your service, Anauel. I look forward to reading your full report.”

Anauel bowed her head and walked away at the dismissal. She had yet to write her report. She didn’t think it worth mentioning her suspicions that Aziraphale and Corwley were friends. It was harmless. All Gabriel needed to know was that Aziraphale had shown her how he countered Crowley’s temptations. 


End file.
